


Rebuilding

by soufflegirl123



Category: The Gifted (TV 2017)
Genre: Clarice Fong-Background for now, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Esme Frost-Background for now, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Strucker Family-Background for now, Whump, post-eneMy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-05 18:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17330333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soufflegirl123/pseuds/soufflegirl123
Summary: They've rescued John, but Clarice cannot handle the strain any longer. She leaves before she completely falls apart, but in the process breaks John. Lorna and Marcos are left to pick up the pieces.*This is not a Clarice bashing fic, she just has a lot to handle.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-edited. Just written for pure self-indulgence. Enjoy

Clarice rests her head against his for the slightest moment, careful of the cut that is still bleeding. For a moment, John lets himself think that everything will be fine. His body will heal, they will work out any disagreements, and they will all work together to rebuild the Underground. Those dreams fly out the window the moment she pulls away from him. He’s never seen her look more terrified. There’s something else in her eyes too. It’s a look he’s witnessed before on several others during his time in the military, in the veterans hospital, and in the underground. It’s the expression of someone who has been pushed past their limits, and who has to flee before they shatter. It’s never their fault. It’s just the way things go, and that’s why he can’t even blame her when the next words out of her mouth are, “I can’t do this.” 

Her voice is breaking. “This war. This fighting. Us. It’s too much. It’s just-” She pulls away. “I’m so sorry.” She runs. He lets her. She’s across the clearing and through a portal before the others even understand what’s happening.

It’s another blow, and he can tell he’s at his own limits. He can’t flee though. Even if his body wasn’t about to fall apart on him, he’s never been one for running away from his problems: literally or metaphorically. He can, however, break down for a moment. His knees are shaking, and the ground is moving up upward at an alarming speed. The others have been pulled from their own drama and are looking over at him. He can feel all their eyes on him, but it’s Marcos and Lorna who act first. The Struckers follow after a few seconds.

Marcos grabs hold of him seconds before he hits the ground. He wraps his arms around him and carefully guides him to sit on the grass. He somehow manages not to touch any of the open wounds the process, but John is guessing that’s mostly a result of luck. Lorna joins them. 

“Breathe,” Marcos instructs, and John forces himself to breathe as deeply as his cracked ribs will allow. Marcos is still looking over him, and he’s noticed John’s ears. “Shit.” His voice is substantially lower than before. “There’s blood.” There’s some fumbling as he searches for cleaning supplies in the first aid kit. Then he’s pulling back John’s hair and dabbing carefully. 

There’s a shadow over him. Lorna is looking for herself, and soon enough metal pieces on the vehicle begin to shake threateningly. They stop as soon as he winces, and John catches a glimpse of Marcos grabbing hold of Lorna’s hand. 

“You can think about revenge later, but right now, we have other priorities.” 

“John?” Reed and Lauren both hover close by. The worry is clear on their faces. Caitlin is casting concerned glances at John, but most of her attention is still on Andy, who for his part seems too upset over his recent fight with his family to notice that anything else is happening right then. 

“We’ve got him.” Lorna’s voice is borderline possessive. The way Marcos puts himself between John and the Struckers is as well. The Struckers aren’t a threat. They helped save him, but all Marcos and Lorna care about right then is keeping him safe and to them that means keeping him away from anyone else. 

“We need to get you home,” Marcos says softly. Lorna reluctantly pulls her hand away from John’s knee. She wants to protest. They all know it, but there’s no time right then. 

A dark part of Marcos thinks that he should be happy about her pain. She had taken Dawn from him. She had decided on her own to send away their child. Now he was taking John from her. He was making the decisions as to how to care for their friend, and she would be the one waiting and wondering and hoping for any sign that things were going well. He can’t be happy though, not when all he wants if to beg her to come back with him. For them to make sure John is safe together, for them to get their child back together, and for them to have a chance at their happily ever after.

Before they can do anything another Inner Circle vehicle swerves to a stop nearby. Lorna’s immediately on guard. Lauren actually pushes over to stand in front of John with Marcos. Her hands are up to prepare a shield at any moment. The rest of the Struckers ready themselves from a distance. Only Lorna and Andy relax when the door opens and Esme jumps out. 

“Reeva knows everything, and she’s pissed. You’re going to need a new hideout.” Her words are directed at Marcos, but she keeps glancing over at Lorna.

“She wouldn’t do something against other mutants.” The doubt in Andy’s voice is obvious to all. 

“The assassin,” Lorna mutters. “What is she planning this time?” 

“All I got was a few thoughts about delivering the address to some friends of hers. It won’t be safe, and if you two return,” Esme points out Lorna and Andy, “I can tell you that it won’t be pretty. She considers you both traitors now, and not even your abilities are enough to win her favor again.” 

“Stay with us,” John mumbles, and at that moment it’s more effective than anything Marcos could have said to her. 

Lorna look over his injuries. She takes in the hope in his eyes, and she gives a slight nod.

“Lorna, do you really think Reeva would hurt us? We’re too useful.”

“Andy, you know even if she didn’t kill us, the best she would do is have us locked up and only brought out under mind control.” Lorna’s voice is sharp. It leaves no room for disagreement. “You know how she feels about traitors.” She turns her attention to Esme. “What about you? You warned us. She won’t trust you again either.” 

Esme winces. “I’ll think of something.” 

“She comes with us,” Lorna insists. “Wherever we go, she comes with.”

The rest of the Struckers start to protest, but Marcos puts an end to things quickly. “Everyone can go wherever we’re going, but we need to get John somewhere besides this vehicle. We need to also get out of here before those Purifiers come after us with reinforcements.” He’s not screaming or yelling. His words are incredibly quiet, but the force behind them is enough to make everyone listen.Once everyone agrees, he addresses Esme. “Do we have time to go back to get anything?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it. I did stop in and grab some of your things on my way here.” Sure enough, Zingo is sitting in the passenger seat. “I also have a safe house you can use. No one knows about it, even my sisters.”

“Marcos, Clarice-if she goes back-” John tries to form the words, but everything twists about in his throbbing head.

Lauren overhears. “I’ll call her. If she doesn’t answer, I’ll leave texts warning her to stay away from there.” She already has her phone out. 

“Good. That’s settled.” Marcos’s voice is harsher, and John remembers how he had been the one to confront Clarice about her loyalties. Marcos, who was always more trusting than John and Lorna, had been the one to doubt Clarice, and while he had claimed it was for the good of the Underground, John had known it was for more than that. “Esme, if you’re certain this place is safe, then lead the way.” 

Esme gets back into her own vehicle, and after a moment of hesitation, Andy joins her and Zingo. “We can try talking later,” he offers his family. He’s smart enough to know that confrontations shouldn’t take place while locked in a vehicle for hours. The rest of the Struckers load themselves into another vehicle leaving Lorna and Marcos to travel with John. Not that they would have it any other way. They both stare at each other for a moment. 

Lorna starts to hand him the keys. Marcos can see the insistence that she ride with John forming on the tip of her tongue, even though out of the two of them she’s the one that’s weaker with first aid skills. She takes a look at their friend again and the way that he’s clutching at Marcos’s shirt and pointedly not looking at her. Without another word, she takes the driver’s seat, and Marcos climbs into the back next to John and pats his lap. 

John manages a slight chuff of laughter and lets himself stretch out. In a moment of weakness, one that he never would have allowed if anyone else was in the vehicle with him, he turns his head toward Marcos’s chest hoping it will help to block out some of the sunlight. Knowing Marcos, he would try to steal light from the sun if he thought it would help John. Thankfully, Marcos is sensible for once and just reaches for the extra bag he keeps on him purely for such occasions.

“Sleep if you can. We’ll handle everything.” He slips earplugs into John’s ears, careful to make sure they are no longer bleeding first, and then he helps him to slide on an eyemask. They don’t block everything out, but it’s enough to let him fall asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're in their new hideout. Eclaris is a mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no ability to keep track of seasons on shows, so I made it fall because I like the mental aesthetic it provides. Also, I follow no canon after eneMy of my eneMy just because I already wrote this, and I like where's it going. lol Enjoy my self-indulgent whump fic!

The sudden veering of the car wakes John instantly. A sharp pain travels through his stomach, and he has to fight to keep from ripping a chunk out of the car seat in response. “Careful, Lorna” Marcos scolds. His words are muffled through the earplugs, but John can still hear them. 

“You want to switch places? I’d like to see you drive this thing up a mountain road while keeping pace with Esme.” There’s no true heat to Lorna’s words. It’s just the old picking at each other they’ve done so often, and John wonders if he missed something while he was sleeping. He vaguely recalls a few stops, the smells of gasoline and road trip worthy snacks, and a few mutters from Esme about the state of public restrooms. 

He is still sprawled across the backseat. Marcos has been attempting to keep him flat on his back to prevent him from aggravating any injuries, and he’s refused to let anyone else switch places with him despite the fact that his legs must be killing him by then. It’s not the most comfortable ride, but it’s the best they can manage. Marcos’s arms are acting as a seatbelt to keep him from rolling into the floorboard with every sudden stop they have to make, but John knows it’s a struggle for him to hold up so much weight.

“Are we sure that Reeva doesn’t have trackers on the cars?” John asks, lifting the eye mask up a few centimeters. 

“She doesn’t,” Lorna promises. “Esme would know if she did, and we checked two stops ago.” 

Marcos tugs the eye mask back down. “Come on, man. Have some faith in us. We have it handled. Sleep now.” 

John starts to claim that he’s slept enough, but instead, he yawns. They’re right. He knows it. He loses track of time and of direction. Lorna had convinced him to take painkillers before she even tried to pull out the shells and let Clarice bandage him. She knew the exact dosage, enough to work but low enough to keep him from feeling any reminder of former addiction. It’s the same with alcohol. Granted, John’s more likely to have a beer with friends than to admit he’s hurt enough to need painkillers, but either way, he’s still aware as are his friends. 

They do eventually come to a stop. Wherever they are, it’s quiet. He can hear bugs but no cars or people other than their own group. The others climb out of their vehicles with groans, but Marcos doesn’t budge.

“I’m awake.” John slips off the mask, but he doesn’t remove the earplugs. 

“I know. We’ll move when you’re ready.”

He and Lorna need to make up already. John’s not sure he can handle having so much of Marcos’s attention on him. “No time like the present.”

His body complains immediately. All his muscles have seized up during the ride and pushing himself upward forces several colorful swears out in the process. He twists around, and it takes both Marcos and Lorna to keep him from falling face first out of the car. Reed jumps in to help, and he and Marcos each take one side while Lorna walks backward in front of them convinced that she herself can catch John if the other two happen to slip and drop him. 

Their newest place to hole up in is actually their nicest even if it’s not the largest. They’re in the Appalachian mountains in some well-off family’s vacation home. The decor is wood and rocks with pricey faux fur rugs and throws every few feet. A huge fireplace stands in the center of the main room, and there are more sky windows than he considers safe for their current situation. Then again, they are in the middle of nowhere. 

John collapses onto the first sofa in the house. The short walk from the car and up the stairs was enough to use what little energy his nap had built up.

“You should be in a bed.” It’s funny how so many people can say the same thing at once.

“Give me fifteen.” 

Thankfully Esme jumps in then. “There are three bedrooms,” she announces. “The family that owns this lovely vacation spot has fled the country and won’t be returning any time soon. They were friends of mine,” she adds after a moment. “Sort of friends. Anyway, three bedrooms and five beds.” 

Five beds, eight people, and a dog. That’s their little merry crew. 

John clears his throat. “I can take the-”

“John gets a bed.” Lorna interrupts. No one argues.

Normally it would be the Struckers in one room, Marcos and Lorna in another, John and Clarice in one, and the rest dispersed with whomever they got along best with. Only Clarice isn’t there. She’s-well, she’s not there, and John has no interest in sharing a room with Esme. Marcos and Lorna don’t seem to be completely comfortable moving right back in with each other either though John doubts that will last long. Their hearts still speed up whenever they’re near each other, and he knows for a fact that it’s not out of annoyance. It’s just going to take a while for the two of them to get over their stubbornness and admit they still care for each other, and John has a few too many bullet holes to play matchmaker right then. Then again, as Lorna and Marcos both squeeze in on the sofa next to him, maybe he has just enough. 

They play around with arrangements, but everyone has some kind of protest except John, who is just trying to stay awake after hearing the third reason why Lauren and Andy refuse to share a room with their parents or with each other. Even Marcos, who is more focused on trying to get John to let him check his bandages, occasionally voices a reason why it might not work. 

Esme loses patience first. “Everyone, quiet!” She throws her hands up. “Lorna, Lauren, and I can share the room with the twin beds and daybed. The Struckers can take one of the rooms with the king beds. Andy, since you like your privacy and because no one sane wants to share a room with a teenage boy-no offense, you can take the library in the attic. It has a futon. That leaves Marcos and John with the last room.” 

There are a few more comments, which John tunes out, but everyone agrees in the end.

“Looks like it’s you and me, brother.” Marcos clasps John on the shoulder. It doesn’t take a telepath to know he’s obviously pleased with the plan. He’s a hover person when someone’s injured. “You think you can manage to get there?” He tugs at John’s arm, and John allows himself to be pulled up. He still has bruises from when he tried to stop the car. The injuries from the shotgun shells merge with them, and he can’t quite tell which pains are from the old injuries and which are from the new. 

To his surprise he’s not led to the second guest bedroom is. Instead, they head to the downstairs bedroom where the master bedroom is located. “Weren’t the Struckers going to take this room?” 

Marcos scoffs. “Just because they’re the married couple doesn’t mean they get all the luxuries. Didn’t you hear all the points I gave them about why we should switch?” He had not actually. Marcos sighs. “You’re injured, so you shouldn’t be climbing up and down all the stairs. We’re two big guys sharing a bed, so we need more space than them. Plus they’re going to cuddle anyway, so all that extra bed space would just be wasted on them.”

“Do you not have plans to cuddle with me?” John teases. His words come out a little slowly. They’re a little strained as well, but it’s enough to get Marcos to smile. 

“I would never deny you cuddles. I’m just using what I can to get us the room.”

John crashes onto the bed immediately, while Marcos bustles around the room. The sounds he makes are more comforting than nerve-twisting right then. As long as there’s no loud music or alarms going off in the next few hours, he should be safe from any sensory overloads.

***

He’s hovering. He knows it. He can’t help it. Between nearly losing John and being so close to Lorna again, Marcos is filled with an unnerving amount of adrenaline. The only way he can find to deal with it is to channel it all into taking care of his friend. Dios knows that his friend has spent enough time taking care of him over the years.

There’s an ensuite bath, and he goes ahead and starts filling the tub with the warmest water that his skin can handle. He takes a few moments to check that the bedroom fireplace is in decent enough order before lighting it up with a quick blast of his powers. It’s cold in the house, but once the fireplaces and the central heating are all going then everyone, even Andy all the way up in his new attic bedroom should be warm enough. Still, it doesn’t hurt to make sure everyone has some spare blankets and quilts in their room should the power happen to go out. Snow in mid-fall was not something they had been exactly been prepared for. Luckily, there are more blankets than they will ever need, and Marcos runs around dropping off bundles at every room. Everyone else seems to be in the same state that he is. Andy is decorating the attic with some of his drawings, the Esme and Lauren are remaking all the beds with fresh sheets and dusting off the surfaces that have been untouched for so long. Caitlin is doing an inventory of the first aid supplies and putting aside everything that John will need over the next few days. Reed is checking the other fireplaces and using an actual lighter to light them up. 

Lorna is using her powers on the metal handle mops to wipe down all the floors. It looks like something out of Fantasia, and for a brief moment, he’s tempted to stop and comment. She catches him watching and throws him a look that he doesn’t quite know how to read, and the comment he meant to make get lost. He fumbles with the blankets, nearly dropping everything on the floor. “I was just making sure everyone had enough. John’s um-he’s resting.”

The smile she gives him is one he knows how to read. She’s grateful. She twirls the mops around. “Do you think he would mind if I checked on him later?”

“He’d love to see you,” Marcos blurts out without even pausing to consider if it’s true. Of course, it’s true. John loves Lorna as much as Marcos does, possibly more. 

“Okay, I’ll be by later then.” 

It takes a few moments for Marcos to get his feet to work, and when he returns to his own with three quilts in hand, John is half-asleep. Marcos puts down the blankets, turns off the tap to the tub which is admittedly a bit too full and takes a seat on the edge of the bed, maneuvering John’s feet into his lap to untie the boots. John twists around to watch. “You don’t have to-”

“I’ve got it.” They’ve both done it for each other before. He gets the laces undone and tugs off the boots. His grunts of effort draw laughter from both of them. He doesn’t bother with the socks. The floor is still cold enough to need them for even the short walk to the bathroom. 

“Go soak. I’ll see what the food situation is.” 

“Not hungry,” John mutters. It’s unlike him. John knows what’s needed for recovery. Even when he’s not in the mood to do so, he still eats as healthy as possible and maintains a regular workout schedule. 

“I’ll make something light.”

John sighs. “It’ll need to be bland.” Marcos can guess that’s partially because he’s terrified to risk getting sick when he’s got all those wounds traveling over his stomach. He would be if he were in such a situation. 

He gets John to the bathroom and into the bath with as little hovering as he can manage. John’s paler than Marcos has ever seen him. The bruises under his eyes are darker than ever. There’s the slightest tremor in his arms. He’s not bleeding any longer though, and Caitlin had promised them that while he would be in a lot of pain for a while, the actual wounds were shallow enough that they didn’t need to worry too much. “Keep them clean, put the medicine on them, and bandage them up to keep them from sticking to any surfaces, or you know, call me, and I will do it all for you.” 

“Will you be okay on your own?”

John snorts. “I think I can handle sitting in a bath alone for a few minutes.”

Marcos nods, wishing for a moment that they could trade abilities. It would be easier to keep an eye on John then, but he has to instead settle for trusting that he knows his own limits and that he won’t fall asleep and drown in the bath. Still, he rushes to get to the kitchen only to find that Lorna has beaten him there and is busy through the cabinets.

“We’ve got a pretty good selection.” She delivers the words with a casual tone, and for a moment, he can pretend that every thing’s back to normal. “If you wait an hour or so, I’ll have dinner fixed for everyone.”

“I was just getting some soup for John. I don’t think he’s up for anything else tonight.

Lorna frowns. “How is he? Really, I mean.”

“He’s -he will recover. He’s more sensitive to sounds right now. He thinks I haven’t noticed, but he still hasn’t taken out the earplugs.

“Has he said anything else about what happened?” 

Marcos shakes his head. He doesn’t look away from the rows and rows of cans in front of him. How many flavors of instant soup could one family have? “I think he’s close to shutting down even if he doesn’t know it yet.”

Lorna bites at her lip and nods. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but it’s never fun. When everything around him gets to be too much, sometimes John just shuts down, moving only on command, hiding away from any noise, and not speaking. 

“Do you think it’s going to be a full shut down?”

“We’ll see.” 

“Do you have his board?”

“It’s in his care bag.” All of them had an emergency bag that they carried whenever they went out. Extra clothes, rations, fake ids, first aid kits, some of the more personal things they didn’t want to be far from. Marcos also had an extra bag that he carried solely for John’s use. It stayed with the other bags in their rooms when they were home and in the trunks of vehicles when they out. 

“Care bag?” Caitlin’s voice fills the kitchen, and both of them jump. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I was going to see what I could make for everyone to eat.” She steps further into the room and moves over to the cabinet where Marcos is still staring hopelessly and begins to pick out cans. “Soup tonight. It’ll be good for everyone.” He sees her setting aside some of the soup that reminds Marcos more of baby food than of anything appetizing, and he really hopes that’s not what she’s planning on everyone eating. 

Marcos and Lorna both watch her quietly until she asks Lorna to hand her one of the pots that are hanging from one of those ridiculously high ceiling holders. “Marcos, you’re fidgeting,” Caitlin remarks. 

“I’m just listening to see if he needs help.”

“Go sit in there then. We’ll let you know when the food is done. Tell him we’ve banished you to stay in there if he complains.”

“Gracias,” he mutters and bolts out of the room quickly. 

 

***

Lorna watches Marcos disappear from the room with all the grace of a town drunk. John’s not the only one who needs rest. Almost all of them are left exhausted after that rescue mission and abrupt road trip. Caitlin, Reed, and Esme are probably doing the best out of the lot. 

“Care bag?” Caitlin asks again. Lorna is opening the cans and pouring them into the two pots while Caitlin has found instant biscuit mix and after deciding it’s not yet expired, she is attempting to make biscuits to go along with their soup. They’ll have to sneak out to a store unless everyone truly enjoys living off of just canned goods. 

“It’s a precaution thing.” She opens the freezer again even though it was empty the last three times she tried it, and she doubts anything has changed since then. 

“It’s a precaution thing that you didn’t think the on-hand nurse should know about?”

Lorna winces. “It’s not that kind of-well, it is but-.” She groans under her breath trying to figure out how to explain the bag that they’ve grown so used to over the years. “It’s for when there’s a sensory overload. There are just some soundproof headphones and extra strength sunglasses. There’s an eye mask too for the really bad occasions.” Like in the car earlier. Lorna gives up trying to find anything else in the kitchen and goes back to tapping the spoon against the edge of the pot. “There’s a set of lounge clothes. Though those are also for when he needs an emergency change besides what all is in his emergency bag. You’ve seen how he goes through shirts.” Caitlin laughs at that. “There’s also a little whiteboard, some markers, and an eraser for when he doesn’t feel like speaking or signing. Marcos keeps up with the bag most of the time, but if he’s not available then it would go to me.”

“You weren’t first choice?” 

“Well, until Marcos came along and organized the things John wasn’t so willing to organize himself, we kind of just winged things. Then once Marcos came up with the idea, he was just so proud of it that we let him be in charge of it.” The thought of it makes her smile. It had been a joke between the three of them. While none of them liked that the bag was necessary, they had all been amused by just how much thought Marcos had put into it, including color coordinating everything inside as if making sure that the items were John’s favorite colors would make him more likely to use them. 

Caitlin is quiet while she processes the information. She locates a tray and hands it over to Lorna.“He’s mentioned something about a sensory overload before when I asked him why he couldn’t track someone, but I didn’t think he meant it like that.”

“You thought he meant that everything was too chaotic to keep track of and not that he was on the verge of a breakdown. Right?”

“Yes.”

“He does that. He brushes it off when he can.”

“Yes, but now that I know I can-”

“You can let Marcos handle it. That’s how John prefers it.” That time it’s Caitlin who flinches, and Lorna feels just a bit guilty. “It’s good though,” she admits. “That you want to help him. He deserves to have a lot of people who care about him the way he does others.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a moment between Marcos and John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter with no real plot advancement, but some cute whump and comfort for you to enjoy. Plots will come later.

Back inside the master bedroom, Marcos hovers at the door to the bathroom. He knows that John knows that he’s there, but he resists the urge to push past the already half-open door to see if he is still conscious. Eventually he’s rewarded with a long-suffering sigh and the sound of water splattering onto the tiles as John twists around in the bath. Yep. He had definitely overfilled it.

“You can come in.”

“I was just making sure you hadn’t fallen asleep in here.” He steps inside. The bathroom is nicer than most. The tub is placed right in front of a window that overlooks the mountains. The toilet is sectioned off by itself. There’s one of those showers with a dozen different showerheads and no doors in one corner. There’s a plush bench inside a little nook area, and that’s where Marcos starts to take a seat. 

“We cannot let the others know about this bathroom.”

John snorts and lets himself sink deeper into the bath. “So Lorna is coming by later?” 

“Oh. You heard that?” 

John motions to the nearby shelf where the abandoned earplugs sit. “I am not going to shut down.” 

“I hope you’re not, but after everything that’s happened it might not be avoidable.” John groans, but Marcos continues. “Listen, no one would blame you if you did shut down for awhile. We just want to make sure that we are prepared in case.”

“I don’t want the others to see if I do shut down.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Marcos agrees quickly. “Lorna and I will keep the others out if you do shut down. I do want to ask you about Caitlin though.” The types of injuries that John currently has could easily become something neither he nor Lorna would be able to handle on their own. 

“Only if you think she is necessary.”

John leans against the side of the tub, resting his head on one of his arms. His eyelids flutter, and Marcos knows that he is seconds away from falling asleep again. Marcos veers away from the bench and over to the bath. 

“Stay awake a few more minutes, and I’ll wash your hair for you,” he bribes. Somehow John manages to keep himself awake even as Marcus carefully washes all the blood and grime out of the long hair. When Marcos is done, he squeezes out the excess water from the hair and wraps a towel around it trying to fix it in the way that he’s seen Lorna do hers after a shower. He is not successful. 

John laughs at his actions and holds out a hand. “Hair tie.”

There’s one sitting on the pile of neatly folded clothes. He hands it over and watches as John effortlessly pulls back his hair. “My arms aren’t injured at least.” No, but they’re still shaking. He pulls himself up, and Marcos goes back to hovering at his side digging his fingers into the waiting towel and holding his breath as John ever so carefully steps out of the bath. 

“Here.” 

“Thanks.” John wraps the towel around himself and begins shuffling his way to the bedroom. Marcos wraps an arm around his waist and lets John rest some of his weight on him. The bath has rid him of what energy he has left, and by the time they reach the bed, John is trembling. He collapses on the bed. He’s not even trying to hide his pain anymore, and even though he’s concerned, Marcos feels a little pleased that he’s the one trusted enough to be shown the truth. He grabs the first aid kit. 

“Do you want me to get Caitlin to do this?” 

“No, you please.” 

“Then you have to tell me if I’m doing any of it wrong.” Even though Caitlin had promised there was nothing life-threatening and even though she had shown him how to do up the bandages and what to watch for, he still doesn’t feel one hundred percent confident.

“I will let you know if you’re completely failing at this.”

Between the two of them they get John bandage and into a pair of sweats. Marcos grabs all the pillows in their room and steals more from the spare closets until John can sit propped up with no effort on his part.

“Don’t go back to sleep yet. The food should be finished soon, and you and I both know that you need something to eat before you take any more meds.”

John smiles sleepily. “How do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

There’s a knock at the door before John can answer, and Lorna enters with Zingo following behind her. It’s so perfectly timed that Marcos wonders just how long she had been waiting at the door. 

“Soup’s on,” she announces and places a tray of food on John’s lap. She turns to Marcos. “You should go eat. I’ll stay here.”

And okay, whatever awkwardness exists between Lorna & Marcos, he will probably always trust her with John’s well-being. He still checks with John to see if he’s comfortable with the idea. 

“I will be fine. Go eat something. Lorna can keep me company.”

Marcos quickly glances over Lorna. She’s seated on the edge of the bed, picking at a loose thread in the quilt. “Call me if he needs me.” 

“I’m right here and conscious,” John points out. Marcos gives his shoulder a friendly squeeze. 

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” he directs his words to John that time. “Do not get out of bed.” Zingo hops up on the other side of John as if promising to keep him there. “Good Doggy.” 

Between Lorna and Zingo, Marcos doubts John will be able to make any escape attempts. Which is good because Marcos really needs a moment to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, Lorna and John. 
> 
> And oh look, John's recovering so quickly, isn't he? Well, surely nothing bad's going to happen now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not much in the way of action. It's just Lorna getting some time with John and trying to deal with her new living situation.

Lorna watches Marcos try to leave the room. It takes him three attempts to get through the door. “How long do you think he’ll manage before he has to jump back in and take over things himself?” 

It’s the first time that Lorna and John have been in a room alone together in nearly a year. It’s strange. Once upon a time there had been a point where they were inseparable. They had traveled together. They had shared hotel rooms, secrets, food, and on occasion clothing. Yeah and maybe the clothing had been more of a her stealing his stuff kind of thing, but he had definitely stolen more than a few of her hair ties over the years. As juvenile as it sounds, she considered him her best friend., someone that would trust her first and that she could trust first. Even when Marcos had come along, he had been one more thing they shared. Okay, that sounded wrong. Marcos wasn’t an object. He was a person, but he was their person. 

“He’s just-”

“I know how protective he is, especially over his friends.” The especially over us goes unsaid because she thinks maybe it’s no longer true in her case. It’s certainly still true over John, and Lorna wouldn’t be surprised in the least if Marcos is back in less than five minutes having decided to finish the rest of his meal at John’s side. 

Speaking of meals. “You should eat.” 

John nods and picks up the spoon. His hand is shaking so badly that it takes him twice as long to get a bite than it normally would. She watches him take a few bites before she speaks again. 

“John, the reason I left-”

“I’m sorry I failed you,” he blurts it out. “If I had just-”

Lorna clenches her hand into a fist. “Don’t do that,” she orders. “Don’t even try blaming all this on yourself. You can’t control what decisions other people make, and you need to learn how to not take that all on yourself.”

John flinches. She can’t tell if it’s because of her words or because he’s in pain. She doesn’t want it to be either. 

“But if I-”

She takes hold of his free hand. “You did everything you could. You were placed in an almost impossible situation. You haven’t failed. The Underground is still going-”

“But Atlanta-”

“Atlanta was a loss, but it wasn’t a complete failure. People got out of there alive, and we’ll come back stronger.”

“We?”

Lorna pauses for a moment. “We,” she affirms. The Underground might not have the resources of the Inner Circle. They may not always be as willing to act as the Inner Circle, but Lorna knows that she can trust those in the Underground. 

“I still want to fight to make this world safer for all of us. I still think the Underground could be more proactive, but I know now that the Underground’s way of doing things is better. I know that my leaving was wrong, and staying after I found out Reeva’s true intentions was even worst. I’m sorry for all of that. More importantly, I am sorry for how I abandoned all of you and how I treated you.”

John squeezes her hand back. “We all make mistakes.” The fact that he forgives her so quickly makes her feel a thousand times worse because it just makes it clear how he’s only ever blamed himself. 

“I hope that Marcos will see it that way.” 

“Give him time.” He places down his spoon and leans back. 

“Are you okay?” She’s already sliding towards the edge of the bed, ready to run for Caitlin or Marcos, but he tugs her back. There’s so little force in his grip that it startles her. 

“I’m fine. I just need a minute.” He takes a few breaths, and they sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. “Marcos showed me the pictures of Dawn. She’s beautiful.”

“She is.” Lorna agrees, and she’s proud when she doesn’t immediately become an emotional wreck at the mention of her daughter. “I wish you could have met her before-”

“I’ll meet her one day.” He sounds so confident. Lorna envies him. 

“And she’ll love you immediately. You’ll be Uncle John. You’ll spoil her rotten, and you’ll give her the best advice.”

“I look forward to it.”

Lorna really hopes that he doesn’t have to wait long. Maybe now that they’re together again, they can find some way to keep Dawn safe themselves, or maybe they can at least find ways to visit her. If Clarice was there and if she didn’t completely hate Lorna’s guts, maybe they could even talk her into portaling them there every weekend for a few hours. 

She doesn’t let herself consider that for very long. There’s no point because they’re currently on the run from two large and rather powerful hate groups. Also, Clarice is gone, and Lorna is torn between hating her for abandoning John and empathizing with her because she knows their world is too complicated for even the strongest of relationships to handle easily.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Just how nice it is to be able to talk to you again.” It’s not the whole truth, but it’s better than bringing up Clarice right then. 

“I’m glad that you’re back. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” 

John reaches for the spoon again, and Lorna can’t handle the way his hand shakes. She takes over. The spoon lifts up and out of John’s hand before it dives into the soup. John raises an eyebrow when she causes it to hover in front of his mouth. 

“Seriously?” The spoon’s in his mouth before he finish the last syllable. 

“Would you prefer if I made some airplane noises to go with it?”

John opens his mouth, no doubt to say some clever comment, but Lorna is faster and repeats her earlier move of flying the spoon into his mouth. He rolls his eyes but ends up going along with it. She watches him carefully as he eats, and he manages a bit more than half the bowl before he turns his head away with a wince.

“John?”

“I think I need to lie down,” he manages between clenched teeth. 

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” She hops up to put the tray aside. “Marcos!” she calls. She’s careful to keep any panic from her voice. There’s no reason to panic, and the last thing they need is to have a herd of people breaking down the bedroom door. Despite her tone, Marcos bursts into the room with wide eyes. 

“I need help getting him flat,” she says. They work together to toss aside the excess pillows. Then they each take one of his arms, careful to avoid the wounds there and help him to ease downward. Once he’s settled, Lorna brushes back his hair trying to ease some of the tension from his expression, but her fingers pause on his forehead. 

“He’s burning up.”

She flashes back to that night with Dawn, to how helpless she had felt as she clutched her daughter to her chest and screamed for help. Now they’re holed up in the middle of nowhere. They have none of the medical equipment. They don’t have some of the best mutant specialist doctors. All they have is an overworked nurse and a poor selection of first aid supplies. 

She can feel her breath quickening as Marcos looks up from where he’s been tucking in the blankets. His hand joins hers on John’s forehead. 

“That is a fever,” he confirms. 

“Lorna,…your heart is going too fast,” John mumbles. 

Marcos glances at her then. “He’s going to be fine, Lorna.” He turns to John. “You’re going to be fine,” he assures, and John nods tiredly in agreement. “Caitlin warned that this might happen, so we are prepared.” 

Lorna fights to calm herself. “What do we do?”

“I just bandaged his wounds and none of them looked infected, so we don’t have to worry about those for right now. We just need to monitor his fever. Caitlin said that as long as it doesn’t get too high, we need to let him ride it out. It’s the body’s way of fighting off infection. If it gets higher than a certain amount, we can give him fever reducers and bring in some cold cloths.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“Then we have a bunch of other things to do. Now, there’s no point in worrying before there’s something to worry about.” He’s keeping his voice so calm, but Lorna can see the concern in his eyes. 

“Can you hand me the thermometer?”

Lorna looks around until she finds it sitting nearby with a pile of other supplies. She waits anxiously while Marcos convinces John to turn his head, so he can place the thermometer in his ear. It takes a few moments, but then Marcos is nodding. “No fever reducers yet,” he announces. “But you should go back to sleep. Do you need anything? Eye mask? Ear plugs?” 

John allows for the items, and Lorna sinks into a nearby chair as Marcos finishes getting John ready for bed. Is this how it would have been with Dawn? Would Marcos have been so level-headed and calm, or would also have been screaming in the middle of the night. 

“You don’t have to stay in here constantly,” John tells them as Marcos pulls things out of the care bag. “I promise I’ll just be sleeping, and you two have too much to do to be sitting with me all the time until I recover.”

“Okay,” Marcos agrees easily. Way too easily actually. Lorna waits for the catch, and she isn’t disappointed. He grabs a bag that Reed had picked up during one of their stops at a shopping center. “One condition.” He reaches into the bag and produces a set of baby monitors. They’re the kind that not only pick up on every sound but also allow for the parent to pull up a video if needed. John groans as Marcos explains.“Reed thought we might have some use for these things in the future. Andy suggested a go pro camera and a drone, but we thought that might be too loud for infirmary uses.”

“Fine, if you must.”

Marcos sets up the monitors. He places the one just out of John’s reach on a nearby table and slips the other into his pocket. “There we go. Now, you sleep, and we’ll go handle everything that needs to be handled.” He nods at Lorna, and she pulls herself out of the chair and onto shaky legs. She presses a kiss to John’s cheek then picks up the tray to take it to the kitchen. 

The others are cleaning up in the kitchen when Lorna and Marcos get there. Marcos fields questions about John’s health and talks to Caitlin about the fever. Lorna numbly hands over the tray to Esme when she reaches for it. 

“You okay?” Andy asks though from the look on his face, she thinks maybe she should be asking him. 

“I’m fine.” 

Esme shoves a mug into Lorna’s hand. “It’s not chamomile,” she promises. “But it’s also possibly not very good.”

“Thanks anyway.”

“You look a little-”

Lorna shakes her head trying to cut off Esme before she can draw any attention their way. She taps at her temple subtly, and Esme blinks in surprise but then nods. Lorna focuses on the thoughts she wants her to know about, and Esme gets the idea. 

She draws one of Lorna’s hands away from the mug and takes it in hers. “Come upstairs. You haven’t even seen what things I managed to pack for you before running, and I need to make a list of essentials we might need when I go to the town tomorrow.”

“You’re going to town?”

“Well, I won’t be going into the actual town, but I’m meeting someone there who can get us whatever we need.”

“And that is?”

“Whatever local I stumble across first and send into town with some cash to do some errand running.” Esme gives her a grin and tugs at her hand again. Lorna lets herself be pulled up the stairs. She’s pretty sure that if she didn’t have a coffee cup in her hand right then that they would be doing that silly half run up the stairs thing that Lorna remembers seeing the younger girls in the underground do whenever they were in a hurry to discuss something secretive. It makes her realize that she’s never quite had a friend like Esme before. It makes her realize that she really does consider Esme to be a friend.

They enter the bedroom that they’re sharing with Lauren. Esme immediately takes a seat on one of the twin beds and gestures for Lorna to take a seat on the matching one barely two feet away. “Lauren offered to take the daybed,” she explains. They stare at each other for a few moments. At least, Lorna thinks they’re just staring at each other. It’s possible that Esme believes she still has permission to be reading Lorna’s thoughts. She pointedly begins thinking about how Esme would look with strawberry hair and notices the other woman’s lips twitch.

“I wasn’t reading you, but when you’re thinking that hard at me, I’m going to pick it up. And seriously? That was the image you had to give me?” 

Lorna can’t find it in her to be angry. In fact, she’s amused. Esme has proved her loyalty many times over already, and Lorna desperately wants more people she can trust in her life. 

“Even Andy can tell that you’re stressed.”

“This wasn’t how I planned on coming back. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to come back. I just knew I couldn’t stay there as long as Reeva was in charge. Not that she gave me much of an option.”

“And now?”

“Now,there’s no time to even process that I’m back. We’re in danger. John’s more injured than he’s been in years. Andy’s fighting with his family. Marcos can barely stand to look at me. The Underground that I helped them to build has fallen apart, and I’m to blame. How are we going to do this?” She flops sideways on the bed.

“They’re your friends. You should be telling me how this is going to work.” 

Lorna snorts into the pillow. 

“I would, but honestly, I have no idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> Eclaris  
> John takes a turn for the worse  
> Esme's on a mission. many missions actually


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get worse before they get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This surprisingly turned out to be a Lorna POV chapter. This was not the original plan, but that's what happens.

Lorna drifts somewhere between sleep and wakefulness while Esme scribbles away in a notebook with superheroes on the cover. The other woman has changed out of her usual polished style to an over-sized sweatshirt that Lorna is pretty sure came from her closet and a yoga pants. She looks like a college student, and Lorna lets herself pretend that they’re roommates in a dorm. The worst problems they have are studying for finals and arguing over whose turn it is to do the dishes. 

The door to their room opens, and Lauren stumbles across the room to fall into the daybed. Lorna adds her into the daydream. Lauren’s the freshman roommate who somehow got placed with the upperclassmen, and she’s the one who hides Lorna’s coffee whenever she’s in danger of a caffeine overload and who steals all of Esme’s over-priced yogurts and leaves little IOU notes in their place. She lets herself sink into the fantasy. Marcos and John share a dorm in the next hall. Marcos sets off the fire alarm three times in one semester because he forgets his popcorn in the microwave, and John’s a student-athlete who goes on jogs before his morning classes and makes flashcards for all of them whenever they have shared classes. She comes up with different scenarios, and they’re getting more and more detailed until Esme suddenly speaks up.

“Do you mind turning down the violent thoughts?” 

Lorna feels her face grow uncomfortably warm at the thought that Esme might have seen some of her fantasies, but it’s Lauren who replies. 

“Sorry. They weren’t aimed at you. It’s just-,” She sits up and waves her hands about. “You know” It’s rather strange how quickly she seems to have forgiven the two of them when she’s still so angry at her own brother. 

Esme laughs. “No worries. I have siblings of my own.” 

“I have a John,” Lorna offers up, but that’s cheating really. He’s different than a brother. He’s her platonic soul-mate. 

“Want to trade?” Esme and Lauren’s voices perfectly sync up in a way that usually only occurs when the Frost triplets are speaking. It shocks them all for a moment, and then laughter fills the room. 

There’s a rhythmic knock on the door. “Sorry to interrupt the party,” Marcos calls out. “But I finished my list, and I brought John’s too.”

Esme hops off her bed and opens the door. While Esme and Marcos go over the list, Lorna searches out the baby monitor in Marcos’s pocket and tries to get it to her, but Marcos is quick to grab hold of it. “I promised him that we wouldn’t spy,” he protests. Lorna pouts and flops back down on the bed. 

“I can get all of these things,” Esme promises. 

“Yeah, um,…who is going with you? It’s not safe to go along,” That. That right there is why Lorna loves-loved-loves? Marcos. No matter how much he might not trust someone, once they’re on his team, he will protect them. He might question them, but he’s not going to let anyone hurt them. 

“I can join you,” Lauren offers immediately. 

Esme raises one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Is this because of your brother?”

“I just think my parents could use some time to reconnect with him without me around, especially since I don’t think I contain my eye-rolling much longer.”

How long has she been holding that in? Lorna likes Andy. He’s a good kid, but he can be a pain in the ass when his attitude strikes. Lorna imagines that between that attitude and the parents’ overbearingness, Lauren could use some actual space.

“Take her with you,” Lorna insists. “It doesn’t hurt to have an extra set of eyes.” None of them should be venturing out alone anyway. 

Esme agrees, but the smile on her face is tight. 

“Well, then since that’s settled, I’m going to go back downstairs and see if John needs anything.” Marcos turns to leave.

“Wait!” Esme blurts out. _You should go with him._ Esme’s voice floats through Lorna’s mind. They haven’t really used the telepathy in such a casual way before, and it catches her off guard.

_Why?_ Lorna directs the thought at her. 

_Because you’re still in love with him, and the more time you two spend together, the faster you get back together, and then I don’t have to deal with your constant longing looks at each other._

“We do not stare longingly at each other,” Lorna blurts out and then realizes she had not meant to say that aloud. Marcos’s face flushes slightly while Lauren is too amused to stop the snort that escapes her. 

“I’m just going to-” Marcos hurriedly leaves then. Lorna waits for only a moment before she follows after him. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Marcos stops right there in the hallway and slowly turns to look at her. She holds up her hand and continues speaking. 

“I treated you like trash. I was wrong to leave. I was wrong to play with your emotions like that. I was wrong to keep you away from our daughter. You missed her birth because of me. You missed the first few weeks of her life. You barely got to see her or to know her before I chose to send her away. I have hurt you so badly that I don’t know how you could ever forgive me, but I want you to know that I still love you. And it’s okay if you don’t return those feelings. I don’t expect you to.”

 

Laughter bubbles out of him, but it sounds sad and twisted. “I never stopped loving you,” he admits. “I was angry with you. I wanted to give up on us. Many times. There was even this woman. She was so kind and so-.” He sighs. “But when I looked at her, all I could think about was how she wasn’t you.” 

Lorna fidgets with one of her rings. “So what do we do?”

“I spent so long hoping you would come back, that I didn’t think about what would happen after that.”

She steps forward and takes hold of his hands. “If you can forgive me, I would like to go back to how we used to be. Or better than we used to be. But I want you to take the lead for now. Let me know what you’re comfortable with.”

Marcos bites at his lip. “Okay,” he agrees. A muffled scream sounds through the speaker on the monitor, and they’re both running down the stairs as fast as their legs can carry them. They burst into the bedroom and over to John’s side. He’s clutching at his arm. His face is tight with pain. 

“What’s wrong?” 

It takes a few moments, but then he’s speaking. “I went to sit up, and I put too much weight on my arm.” 

Neither of them reminds him that he’s supposed to call for them if he needs to move. He knows it already, and reminding him would just annoy him rather than help. 

“Do you need to move still?” Marcos asks instead.

“Bathroom,” he mumbles. 

“We’ll get you there.”

They help him up and to the bathroom. John insists Lorna wait outside. 

“It’s not like I haven’t seen it before,” she stays outside the bathroom though and listens while Marcos questions John about how exactly that happened. 

“Which time do you want to know about?” That’s her John. 

They get him back in bed. Marcos is looking more exhausted with each passing moment, and Lorna wonders when was the last time he slept. What exactly had happened before John got captured?

“You should sleep too,” she tells him. “I just had a nap myself, so I was just going to…” she glances around the room. “Catch up on the latest news. Mind if I put that on and mute it?” She points out the tv. 

“Go ahead. I don’t think I can fall asleep yet anyway,” John replies. She turns on the tv to the news and settles into the chair closest to the bed. It’s large enough that she can curl up comfortably, and she pulls the blanket draped over it to cover her instead. 

Marcos looks between them. He looks relieved. “I’ll get ready for bed then.”

Lorna and John end up switching from the news to a movie when nothing useful is reported on. They make fun of the plot and talk about which of the cast is the hottest until Marcos returns. No one mentions that Lorna’s bed upstairs is free, or that she has little intention of using it much over the next few days. Instead, Marcos climbs into the empty half of the bed. The mattress is one of those fancy ones that’s supposed to keep anyone else in the bed from feeling the tossing and turning of the other, and apparently, it works quite well. John is not jostled at all even as Marcos struggles to get comfortable.

“You two can keep talking. It won’t bother me.” 

On the contrary, he’ll sleep better for it. They all know that, so John and Lorna keep up their conversation. It’s easier than their earlier conversation. Lorna ends up falling asleep in the chair, and it’s the best sleep she’s gotten since before she went to prison. It’s perfect until Marcos shakes her awake. 

“His fever went up too fast. Get Caitlin!” 

John’s shaking. His body is drenched with sweat, and he’s moaning in pain. Marcos can’t get him to wake. 

“Hurry!” 

Lorna tumbles out of the chair and races through the house, not caring if she wakes anyone in the process. She stampedes up the stairs. “Caitlin!” She’s yelling as soon as she reaches the landing, and she’s just praying that her voice isn’t hurting John more. “Caitlin!” 

Reed’s the one to pull open the door. Caitlin’s grabbing her bag already. “John?” she asks. 

“His fever. He’s shaking.”

They pass by the others as they race back downstairs. Lorna vaguely hears Reed trying to get the three back to their rooms and to keep Zingo with them for the night. 

Lorna stands back as Caitlin examines John. Unlike before, Marcos is clearly panicking as well. His “cool under pressure” demeanor is gone, but he still manages to do what Caitlin tells him. They strip the covers off of him. Caitlin checks the wounds. Infection. One of the wounds is infected. 

John’s calling out for Clarice. Lorna shoves her way over and takes his hand. She lets him think that Clarice has returned,if that’s what will help him then she’ll do it, and if he happens to call for her name along with Clarice’s, well,-she’s got two hands. 

“He’s needs antibiotics. Stronger than anything that we have on hand. Right now, the best we can do is cool him down.” 

Marcos has a cold cloth pressed to John’s head, and Reed’s handing him ice packs to put around him. 

“Where can we get some?”

“The usual. We’ll have to find a clinic or steal from a hospital.”

“Or we could rob this one guy I know.” Esme’s at the door. “Sorry, but I wanted to see if I could help.”

“You want to help?” Caitlin asks. 

“He’s projecting. I can feel his thoughts.” 

Lorna bets she can feel his pain too. Ever since Dawn, she’s suspected that Esme’s powers were growing and that she was developing more empathetic abilities along with the telepathic.

“The medicine,” Marcos interrupts. 

“There’s a former member of the Inner Circle near here. He deals in drugs. The medical kind, not so much the recreational kind. He sells them at inflated prices to other countries. They’re good quality though. If we can get in, we can get whatever we need plus stock up on extras. I can just erase his memory of us after we get what we need.” 

“We should go now.” Lorna’s on her feet and already out the door. 

“We’ll need help. He’s got muscle working for him, and we’ll need to make sure none can escape before I make them forget us.”

“Andy and Lauren.” 

“I’ll need help here too,” Caitlin says, and no doubt she’s wanting to use that as an excuse for her kids to remain behind. 

“Marcos can stay here with you and John,” Esme reminds her. “The rest of us should go.”

Marcos looks up. “Shouldn’t I-,” 

“His mind is screaming for you, Lorna and Clarice. Clarice obviously isn’t here, and we’ll need Lorna’s abilities to get the medicine containers open without damaging anything inside. You should stay here though. He needs at least one of you here with him.” 

And Esme needs to get away from John before she ends up passing out herself. Lorna can see it on her face. “Let’s pack up what we need and go.” 

Before Lorna can follow Esme and Reed out of the room, Marcos crosses the room and takes hold of her hands. “Come home safe.”

“I will,” she promises. “You take care of him.” 

“I will.” 

His touch lingers on her hands even as Esme speeds toward their location. She can do this. Get the medicine and get home safe. That’s all she has to do.


End file.
